The House at the Bottom of the Hill (28 page)

BOOK: The House at the Bottom of the Hill
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He moved towards her, his pace steady, eyes not leaving hers. He didn’t break the connection even when he stopped right in front of her.

‘Thought you’d never get here,’ he said at last.

‘I was asked to make an entrance with the birthday boy.’

‘Lucky birthday boy.’

‘Looking good.’ She smiled and nodded at his jacket. He looked so tempting she wanted to take a bite. Tan leather deck shoes, cream chinos, white shirt, and a chocolate-coloured jacket. No tie but he didn’t need one to look striking, clean-cut and altogether handsome. A twelve out of ten rating kind of handsome.

He tilted his head and gave her a smile she couldn’t read. ‘You’re not being fair, you know that, don’t you?’

She moistened her lips, tasting her cherry-red lipstick. ‘Oh?’

‘Bad Charlotte,’ he said quietly. ‘Very bad.’

‘Why? What have I done?’

He leaned closer. ‘You look beautiful beyond belief and I can’t do more than kiss you on the cheek.’ He kissed her cheek, his mouth lingering on her skin a fraction longer than normal. ‘Man, I’m not going to be able to take my eyes off you all night. That dress was built for you, Red. Dance with me so I can touch you.’

She laughed and stepped back from his hot words, his hot breath. ‘Maybe later.’

‘Don’t tease a man who’s enchanted.’

He lowered his voice as people walked by them, heading for the catering table, dragging chairs into circles and getting themselves sorted for the evening. ‘I’m gonna make you dance with me at some point.’

‘Later. We’ve got work to do tonight, remember?’

‘My mind went blank the moment you stepped into the room.’

She snuck a hand out and pinched his waist, beneath his jacket. He stepped back, hands raised. ‘Just warning you. Keep your eyes peeled and your senses humming because this bartender is going to catch you in a bear hug at some point.’

He backed away, grinning, then turned and headed for the area next to the committee table, and for Ted, who had been given pride of place on an old velveteen sofa Charlotte remembered seeing at the town meeting two weeks ago. Poor Ted, but at least he was here, and he’d been given a throne to sit on.

‘Hey, Charlotte.’

Charlotte turned to the twins. ‘Hi.’

‘The oldies know how to put on a decent party,’ Jillian said, nodding at Kookaburra’s jukebox, which was now thumping out an array of 1980s music.

‘Except there’s hardly any men our age to dance with.’

Charlotte glanced over the girls’ shoulders and spotted their dashing hero, Josh, talking to Mrs J.

‘Ask Daniel,’ Charlotte said. ‘He’s dying to dance.’

‘Great. We’ll catch him later,’ Jessica said. ‘Anyway, just wanted to let you know we got ourselves out of that mess.’

‘Yeah,’ Jillian chimed in. ‘We’re not getting prosecuted.’

‘In fact we’re not even going to court. Nothing. Whole thing is over and that lawyer you sent our way put us in touch with the cops, who’ve apparently given Knucklehead a real dressing down.’

‘We got the chance to prosecute
him
, but decided not to since Dad’s not well and Mum is under the hammer at the store.’

‘Well, at least the police know what happened, you’re both out of trouble and Knucklehead dare not make another mistake, because the police will be watching out for him.’

Jillian kissed Charlotte’s cheek. ‘Thanks very much for everything.’

‘I really didn’t do much.’

Jessica kissed the other cheek. ‘Yeah, you did. Thanks.’

‘No problem at all.’ Charlotte stood alone as the twins left, heading for Josh, she noted with a smile.

‘Those two will turn out just fine.’

Charlotte greeted Mrs Tam with another smile. She would enjoy this evening, and there was the promise of being bearhugged in a dance with Daniel later, but for now, there was work to be done. ‘Mrs Tam, I’ve had an idea and I’d like to run it by you.’

Dan pulled up a chair next to Ted’s velvet sofa. ‘Glad to see you here, Ted. How’re you doing?’

Ted snuffled. ‘Not feeling too good.’

‘I reckon you’re bored, mate.’

‘Too right, Dan. Too right.’

‘Well, if you think you might be up for it—I was wondering if you’d help me out with something that’s bothering me.’

‘Oh?’ The rise of one of Ted’s eyebrows wasn’t entirely enthusiastic, but at least Dan had got his attention.

‘You’ve noticed yourself that we’ve been getting a lot more tourists coming through town these last couple of years.’

‘I have.’

‘And I’ve been trying to think up a way we can utilise this.’ Ted didn’t speak so Dan ploughed on. ‘You know—turn a profit here and there.’

‘For all of us?’

‘Absolutely. I’d like some advice on how you think we can develop Swallow’s Fall into a viable destination.’

‘You’re talking about a tourist manifesto.’ Ted frowned, but the slight glee in his eyes told Dan his interest had puffed up along with his pride.

‘Am I?’ Dan asked. ‘Not sure I’d know how to go about that. Sounds like it would involve quite a bit of work.’

‘Oh, it would.’

‘Sounds like something we’d have to involve not only the committee and the townspeople in, but also the shire.’ Dan slapped his hands on his thighs. ‘Not my field, I’m afraid. Damn it. And I thought I’d got it all figured. Hang on—haven’t you got buddies up at the shire?’

Ted nodded, mouth pursed.

‘If the committee like your idea of the tourist manifesto, do you think you’d see your way clear to do all the high-level work for us?’

‘There’s more involved than chatting with the bigwigs, Dan.’

Dan nodded. ‘Think it might be too big an endeavour to take on?’

‘I’m not saying that.’ Ted shuffled on the sofa. ‘It can be done, with the right management.’

‘Well, if you don’t mind my saying so, I think you’re the man for the job.’

‘No doubt about that,’ Ted agreed, not looking in any way modest. ‘What worries me is the money side of things.’

Dan had that covered, but he gave Ted a chance to think things through.

‘We’d need to get the Town Hall finished.’ Ted counted off on his fingers. ‘We’d need someone to organise a tourist walk around the historical areas on Main Street. We’d need to get a little museum up and running somewhere, perhaps at the Town Hall. And we’d need to re-do the website. We need a sponsor.’

‘How about me?’

‘You? How?’

‘Kookaburra’s could sponsor your tourist manifesto.’

Ted mulled this over, pushing his tongue into his cheek. ‘What would we owe you for doing that?’

‘Nothing. It’d be a business expense.’

‘Well. I could likely spread the idea around. Would you be willing to assist?’

‘Anything you’d like me to do, Ted. In fact, Charlotte’s talking to Mrs Tam and Mrs J about how they could help—if they want to.’

‘Oh, they’ll want to. Mrs Johnson would be the ideal person to do the history walk.’

‘Great idea.’

‘Mrs Tam could keep an eye on the museum since the petrol station is right next door to the Town Hall.’

Dan grinned. ‘You’ve got it all sussed.’

‘Shame the craft centre isn’t in town.’

‘Yeah, but you’ve come up with some smacking good ideas. I’m impressed.’

‘Thank you.’ Ted crossed his feet at the ankles and laced his fingers over his comfortable stomach. ‘Wouldn’t be worth much to the committee if I didn’t have a finger or two in the networking pies up at the shire.’ He looked out on the dancing crowds. ‘You know, Dan—this idea could help everyone in town.’

‘Get us all moving a bit.’

‘We’re normally quite a cruisey bunch, but if I speak the right words to the right people, I can bring them around.’

Dan stood and held his hand out. ‘We’re lucky to have you, Ted.’

Ted shook Dan’s hand. ‘Give me a day or two to get something down on paper and we’ll have a meeting.’

‘Hey.’

Charlotte smiled up at Daniel, happy to have him close after two hours of communication with Swallow’s Fall’s elite about the tourist manifesto they had cooked up between them yesterday at the bar. ‘How’s it going?’ she asked.

‘Good. Ted’s on board. Now it’s dance time.’

‘Not yet—I haven’t told you my news.’

‘Don’t want to talk, I want to dance.’

‘I just danced three times.’

‘Not with me.’

‘Hold your horses, Hotshot. Let a girl get her breath back, would you?’

Charlotte expected his smirk but instead he frowned down at her. ‘Okay,’ he said, ‘this is getting kind of strange, so I’m going to ask you something outright.’

‘Sounds official.’

‘Have I been treating you badly?’

Surprise stilled her. ‘In what way?’

‘Have I been giving you the impression I’m only with you for sex?’

The way he angled his face as he waited for her answer did nothing to lessen her wariness about discussing their … association. He’d asked her the same thing yesterday. She hadn’t answered then, either.

‘Hey, you two.’

Daniel took his attention off Charlotte and smiled at Sammy. ‘Hi, Gorgeous. Want to dance?’

‘No thanks. My bulk and I are taking it easy.’

‘Feeling okay?’ Charlotte asked.

Sammy beamed her answer. ‘Just the tough last two weeks. So—why aren’t you two dancing?’

‘She won’t have me.’

Sammy poked Daniel in the ribs. ‘Are you trying hard enough?’

‘We’re talking about our community mission,’ Charlotte interrupted, changing the subject.

‘Charlotte’s got Mrs Tam raving about her idea of a Sell, Swap, Trade noticeboard at the petrol station.’

‘And Clarissa’s keen to be in charge of the historic walks each day,’ Charlotte chipped in. ‘She’s going to bring Ruby along.’

‘Any ideas about the craft centre?’ Sammy asked. ‘It’s not doing good business, and I’m thinking of closing it down and creating a child-care centre instead.’

‘Leave it to us,’ Dan said. ‘We’ll work on the idea.’

Sammy clapped her hands. ‘You’re quite a team. Now go dance, will you? Give the town something to gossip about. I’m going to sit down.’

Suddenly they were alone. ‘That’s a great idea of Sammy’s,’ Charlotte said.

‘Yeah. It’s something that’s needed. Looks like there’s a lot of changes about to take shape and actually, I’m thinking of … kind of branching out a bit with Kookaburra’s too.’

‘What a good idea.’

‘I’d need quite a few staff members, though, if I expand the business.’

‘There are heaps of smart people around town. I don’t think you’d have a problem staffing your … pub.’

Daniel turned to her. He caught her hand. ‘Charlotte, about us. Some people already know about—about the nice time we’re enjoying.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘The thing is—are we enjoying it?’

He was bringing up issues as though they had a proper relationship, not a liaison.

‘Of course we’re enjoying it,’ she said in a lowered voice. ‘I mean, you’re always gentlemanly. I always feel respected and liked.’

‘I do like you. Very much.’

‘I like you too, Daniel.’

‘So if we value each other so much, what’s going on here?’

She shook her head but still couldn’t meet his gaze. ‘I don’t know.’

He drew a deep breath and turned his attention to the room. ‘Okay. I’m really feeling the strain now.’

‘Behaving?’ Grandy asked.

‘Doing my best not to.’ Dan slipped into the seat next to Grandy. ‘And you? Hope you’re being a perfect house guest.’

‘Doing my bit. Thanks for offering to put in the old-age equipment at my place. Real good of you.’

Dan laughed. ‘I’m gonna hide that twenty-foot ladder too.’

Grandy shucked that off with a smile. ‘How’s your apartment?’

‘Jesus.’ Dan shook his head. ‘You know I’m not building an apartment, don’t you?’

‘Reckon you’d be wasting the space. Reckon you could use that space for something more viable.’

‘Like a hotel.’ Dan wasn’t going to hide anything from Grandy. Didn’t even feel the need.

‘So when are you going to tell folk?’

Dan sucked in air. ‘Got a few things to sort out first, but soon.’

‘Heard about some of the conversations you and Charlotte have been having with people. Good ideas coming out of you both.’

‘I’m glad you approve.’

‘I do.’ Grandy paused, then took a breath that sounded arduous. ‘Best be quick though. Property seems to be moving.’

‘Whose property?’

Grandy turned his gaze to Dan. ‘The B&B. Didn’t Charlotte tell you? She’s put it up for sale.’

Charlotte looked around the room. Night had settled inside as well as outside. The balmy evening air drifted through the opened windows. The bunting fluttered in magical waves and the glitter ball sprinkled starlight over the floor and the walls. Bubbles of light skipped over the heads of the quietened townspeople as the soft, jazzy blues playing on the jukebox turned as sultry as the evening.

She caught Daniel’s eye. He left his place by the top committee table—plates and platters now almost empty, lonely sandwiches and party pies sitting among the crumbs—and headed for her.

Dancing couples paid no attention to him as he wove his way through, lost in their own dreams and the satisfaction of a successful evening.

‘This is it. We’re going to dance now. I’m not taking any more refusals.’

The night was nearly over; her moments of freedom about to come to an end. ‘Yes please.’ She stepped into his opened arms.

‘You’re beautiful. Have I told you?’

‘About five times.’ And the thrill of each would sit with her forever.

‘Had a good evening?’

‘Yes.’ Wonderful.

‘So can you do me a favour?’ His hand firmed at her back. ‘Pretend you’re with me. Really with me,’ he whispered, his mouth close to her ear.

She gave in and drew the moment deep inside her as Daniel danced her around the room. To be remembered forever.

He stopped them by one of the opened windows but he didn’t take his arms from around her.

‘Charlotte,’ he whispered, his scrutiny soft but committed. ‘I want more of you.’

Music floated over her in curls of emotion. The gentle rhythm of the singer’s voice spoke of dreams and wishes and pennies from heaven. But not her heaven. ‘I can’t.’

‘Don’t say that.’

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